Especially for a woman, reading
By Sue MacLeod
Especially in the afternoon when light slants
through the window, grazing her cheek on its way to the page.
For a woman who appreciates that kind of light
for reading. Especially in mornings, when coffee makers
groan. When everyone else is still climbing, still hand-
over-handing their way
up from dreams. For the book
that fell into the bath
and was fished out--quickly. For the line
that swam before her as she fell
asleep. In stolen time: the check-out line, the way to work.
In fits and starts of traffic, in the press
of bodies. Especially
for anyone who's ever missed
her stop. For anyone who's laughed out loud while reading
in a restaurant. Or ever thought of writing
to a stranger:
You told my story. How did you know?
Especially for a teenage girl whose touch
turns bookmarks into ash. And so
she uses rubber bands, a roll of tape, a stray sock, a receipt, or my book
to hold her place open. Who won't
come to supper till she finishes her page.
For a grandmother I know
about, who stirred with a book in one hand. For everyone stirring
with words in their hands. For anyone who's ever grasped
a book in two hands.
Hold your breath and crack it open.
For books that have burned to be written. Books
thrown into the fire
because supper wasn't ready, or her chores had not been done.
For anyone who's ever had anyone
tell her:
All that reading makes you think too much.
Especially when the leaves against the window
are a chorus from another time.
When evening comes, a woman stretches one curved arm to reach
the light behind her. She is reading
while the birds take roost, and punctuate
the branches. Reading till her book is finished. Reading
like a girl.
--------
Poem from
Wednesday I had the pleasure of lunch with
Comcast has this new stupidity: every night between 9 p.m. and midnight it is nearly impossible to access the web. It's not that the cable is down, because I can get my mail and IM fine; it's specifically that every web site brings back a "not found" message. This is pissing me off to an extreme, as those are my prime surfing hours, since my kids are finally asleep and my work is done. Grr arrgh.
Loved loved loved tonight's Smallville despite hugely cliched dialogue, a plot that Star Trek did better and Michael Rosenbaum being so wonderful during some moments that he couldn't help but compare unfavorably with himself during others. I must declare that any episode containing as much Lex and Lionel as this one was going to get a thumbs-up from me, so the fact that I loved it should not be taken as a statement of quality, only as a statement of squee.
Oh! Smallville makes me think of
Things I miss from England, part 53,948: Tesco's mild curry with coconut and lemongrass crisps. Yorkshire Gold tea. Kellogg's Bran Flakes -- yes, I know Kellogg's is a US company, but the version carried in British stores does not have corn syrup and has stronger malt flavoring, so you get more fiber and less unnecessary crap in your cereal. I also miss the farm-fresh eggs and fresh bottled milk, but I could probably find that around here if I went looking; I'd just have to get up awfully early to have it here for breakfast. I am posting photos from Great Falls because it was so lovely there, and it feels British enough to me because at the time George Washington began championing the building of a canal to parallel the Potomac River, he was still a loyal servant of the King...
And in such weather, it seemed like an ideal afternoon activity.
The tops of the trees are green. They weren't when I was last at Great Falls.
But more importantly, the channel which has been dammed since Hurricane Isabel dropped a great pile of branches and debris above it has been cleared out, and the water is rushing through it again. Compare to the photos on this page where you can see more herons, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment